Synonym for Inferno
by Red Wasabi
Summary: Quickmix's love is at best unrequited,at worst it's twisted.


**Title: **Synonym for Inferno

**Author**: Red Wasabi

**Disclaimer:** not mine!

**Notes:** Wow, it would seem that I am going drabble crazy right now! Here's another G1 generator pairing for you: Quickmix/Inferno/bitter

**Rated:** PG

"The sweet after taste of high grade turned sour on Quickmix's glossa when _they_ walked into the rec-room. It wasn't that he had a problem with either of the bots as individuals, it was when they were together that he couldn't help feeling a burning surge of bitterness in his spark over what they had--and what he didn't."

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The sweet aftertaste of high grade turned sour on Quickmix's glossa when _they_ walked into the rec-room. It wasn't that he had a problem with either of the bots as individuals, it was when they were together that he couldn't help feeling a burning surge of bitterness in his spark over what they had--and what he didn't.

Quickly he downed the last remnants of high grade from his cube, and slammed the empty vessel down on the table. Briefly he entertained the idea of getting another barrel--or two; and drinking until he offlined--or until he could stop hearing their happy voices boisterously weaving in and out of one another. Both those options would take too long though, he wanted their voices--_his_ musical voice to cease right now. He needed to finish his project.

Carefully Quickmix stood up, and tried not to sway as he made his way to the door. It took all of the steely resolve in him to not sneak a glance back at the animated red and silver bot as he passed through the doorway. It was no use for him to look back and see what could never be his.

This project was going to be his masterpiece, his greatest achievement. Normally he left engineering to other bots, his area of interest lay in the sweet and subtle mysteries of test tubes. Exact sciences, where a theory could be tested, measured, recorded, and remembered. Quickmix wasn't a master at engineering like Wheeljack was, but he knew how to observe; and by studying Wheeljack's 'mistakes', he knew that he would be able to rise above them and create a perfect spark.

The body had been easy; but it was just a shell. Wires, processors, fuel pumps...they were all nothing if the shell lacked a spark. In the beginning, he had attempted to create a purely chemical model using samples of his own spark for analysis; but that had proven both painful, and fruitless. A spark, he discovered was composed of more than just chemical compounds; yes, there was something else. An unknown essence that brought all the seemingly random compounds and codes together in harmony, and brought forth life.

It had been difficult for him to understand at first, the idea of something indefinable, a substance that couldn't be re-created in the lab simply because it couldn't. As he grew to accept his new discovery, his only course of action had become clear. He needed to harvest part of someone's spark.

The first thoughts of using his own spark had immediately been disregarded, a creator's bond between he and his masterpiece was out of the question. He didn't have any latent Primus complexes, and he felt no need to create something for the sole purpose of just proving it could be done. That was Wheeljack's area of expertise. It had to be someone else's spark, and he knew who that someone would be.

The hardest part about waiting, is the uncertainty Quickmix had soon discovered. He knew, that eventually the Decepticons would launch an attack, and he knew that bots would be grievously injured. But he didn't know for certain who would be hurt, or how many. In order for his spark harvesting plan to work, he needed both a large Decepticon attack, and a vast number of injured bots. There needed to be so many injured bots that Ratchet would have to call in the reserve medics, bots who were only used in dire times. Lucky for him he was one of them.

He had only waited a few days when the attack came. It had been heavy, vicious, and a surprise. Thinking back to that day Quickmix almost felt a stab of guilt in his spark. Guilt for how happy he had been when his wounded comrades began to file in; and guilt for the way his chosen bot's trusting optics had steadily held his gaze with his. They would never know what he had taken from them.

Quickmix pushed those thoughts to the back of this logic circuits. Now was not the time for guilt, now was the time for life. Delicately Quickmix pick up the warm spark casing, and held it in his hands. He could feel the gentle pulsing rhythm of life as it pushed against its confines. Quickly he went back over all the shell's internal specs, it should have all the basic programing, as well as the secondary programing that he had so painstakingly inlaid in it. There could be no mistakes made at this point, there was no going back.

Quickmix's digits shook slightly as he gingerly released the spark into its new body. Shakily he took a step back to watch for the signs of his creation awakening. Breathless minutes passed by as his creation stood there motionless. Quickmix tried to fight the flood of bitterness that welled up inside him as he read over his schematics again. There wasn't a single flaw in them why wasn't he working?!

With an enraged yell Quickmix threw the blueprints aside. They skid across his work table knocking his life's pursuit down on to the hard floor, shattering the many test tubes, and vials.

A strong hand suddenly clamped down on Quickmix's shoulder, instantly he twisted around to see who his brave visitor was. Only to see himself staring back at a face whom he had stared at for orns; a face that he crafted to look just like another's.

Quickmix looked at the bot in awe, as a soft smile filled the bot's face. Hesitantly the bot brought his digits up and began to trace the seams of Quickmix's face. Making Quickmix's optics shut off in pleasure. With a sudden burst of fluid movement he pulled the bot to him, and began to absently stroke his back plates. The bot began to murmur softly as they stood chassis to chassis in Quickmix's partially disassembled laboratory.

"I love you you know," the bot whispered quietly.

Quickmix's optics fluttered, and his digits clung to the bot's back plates unconsciously. "I know you do...Blaze," he hoarsely answered.


End file.
